The Greatest Flawed Plan Ever
by writing.with.a.flourish
Summary: Cartman hacks onto Kyle's computer and facebook page in an attempt to humiliate the Kahl, who catches him and wants revenge. KYMAN. Rated T for language.


_It's rated T for language. There are also probably quite a few English errors in here considering I did not bother to edit it thoroughly...or at all. Sorry. I'll fix it if you alert me of it though. _

**The Greatest Flawed Plan**

"This is the greatest plan ever that I, the brilliant Eric Theodore Cartman, have ever come up with. Ever," I thought smugly as I crept into the Broflovski family's yard towards the stupid Jew kid of the town's window. Then I expertly and quietly used a screwdriver to unlock the window from the outside with my fleshy fingers.

Wait. I totally did not think of my fingers as fleshy 'cause I'm _not _fat. I am simply big boned. Get it right, dumbass.

Anyway, before I oh-so-rudely interrupted myself, I quickly glanced inside the window to make sure the Jew wasn't in his room…he wasn't. Hehe. Smirking, I haul myself through the window and creep as well as I can through the room in my Coon costume. I was wearing the costume just in case Kahl's bitch of a mom found me out. Although, I'd kick her squa' in nuts if she did.

Kahl is a weird kid, even by my standard. (Damn my inability to hold a consistent thought) I mean, I _may_ have a poster of Mel Gibson in my room, but Kahl heeya (here) has a life-size cutout of George Clooney. Where do you even get one of those? Shaking my head, I walk over to the computer. This is where my plan, Operation Humiliate the Jew, would begin. But first, I need to…to…duct tape…your...mouth…. shut…so you…can't tell anyone that it was I. Duct taping your mouth shut is proving more difficult than I had anticipated considering I can't see you. Shit. Well, just know that I'll send Kenneh to bite your head off if you do tell on meh. Then I'll tell my mam that you tattled.

* * *

_ "Vhhhhhvhhhvhhh,"_ computer buzzes when I turn it on. Why do computers have to be so slow. It's loading, it's loading, it's loading…Oh, hey! You finally decided to not be an ass, eh? Awh, nawh, now I'm sounding like a Canadian. I snort. Seriousleh, Kahl? Your desktop is a picture of Stan and you? How extremely…gay. Which reminds meh, I have to go through his pictures as well. You see, mah plan was to go through his computer, find all embarrassing material, hacking onto his facebook page, and then posting his embarrassing secrets online under his name. Then he will cry and I will be able to taste his tears. Finally. Pictures, pictures …AH, pictures. Here they are. Let's see. A bunch of the hippie and Jew messing around with the special effects, a few that looked like his mom took, Chanukah pictures, and so on. Desperately, I clicked through the pictures. He was genuinely smiling a… well…genuine smile in each one. I've never seen him smile like that. WHAT UP WID THAT?

…Never mind. Don't answer that. You're a wuss. Go away. EY. I SAID, GO AWAY.

As I continue scrolling, I realize that the pictures are getting older and therefore, the Kahl on the screen is getting younger. Yeah, I know, I'm a bloody genious. Get over it. Hahahaha. That's actually kinda funny. His Jewfro was too big for his head when he was three or so. I'd never admit it, but he was a cute lil' kid. No, I didn't admit anything, you lying sonofabitch. Sighing, I clicked out of the pictures. Nothing good there. I'm gonna try iTunes next.

Music…Dude. No freaking way. He has ancient stuff on here…from the prehistoric days, otherwise known as the sixties, fifties, and fourties. What kid has music from, "Singing in the Rain," (whatever the Hell that is…not like I watch musicals…though there were some great dance scenes in that movie.) on his iPod? Hm…more ancient stuff: Beatles, Eric Clapton, Jimi Hendrix, Rolling Stones. Finally, something from this century! Awh, nawh. It's just MC Dreidel (seriousleh weird kid.) Jason Mraz, Lady Gaga and…Kesha? The fuck? That's girl's music! That's pretty embarrassing.

Moving on to television shows, shall we? Now, I'm not expecting anything good under TV shows, but man, I was proven wrong! He watches Glee, apparently, which I find hilarious. Glee is a multi-chaptered version of High School Musical (I will make you eat your parents if you talk to me about that movie) from what I hear…though it is supposed to be better than Disney. Hell, anything's better than Disney.

Continuing on to files. Hallelujah. Now, I know I said that I wasn't expecting much for TV shows, but I was expecting even less for files. And again, MAN, was I wrong! This time I found journal entry and poetry. Who would have guessed the Jewrat writes poetry? His poetry really sucks too; no exaggeration. I mean, here's an actual part of a poem that I found,

_Blue, green, brown, white_

_The natural colors of the world_

_Are being consumed by civilization…which is building a load of crap that we don't need_

_I think they should stop chopping trees_

'_Cause trees don't tend to be mean_

_Our civilization is rarely good for the environment_

_And when we do a good deed for Earth, SOMEONE gets smug_

_And then I move to San Francisco and do acid_

_So I can avoid my parents_

_My parents can be retarded_

What the hell? Who writes something like that? It doesn't even rhyme! Maybe I should post that on facebook. I totally should. I will. Later.

And now. Now I get some good stuff…the journal entry How do I know it's a diary entry? I can tell by the heading which says, "JOURNAL THING. I'M TOTALLY SCREWED IF MA READS THIS." Sweeeet. I begin to read, albeit not very fast but SHUT UP, NOBODY LIKES YOU. I hate you geys (guys).

אום_. _כך תראה_, _יש לי סוד_. . _אבל הראשי אחד_..._אני לא שונא קרטמן_. _הסיבה היחידה שאני כותב אותו בכל זאת מאחר _Ike _איימו לספר אמא שאכלתי חזיר לפני כמה ימים אלא אם אוכל שפך סוד כלשהו כאן_. _כמו כן_, _סטן הוא הרג אותי עם דיבורו קבוע של דינה_. _לא מאמין שזה כל שלי סודות_, _אלה שמשמעותם דבר אליי_._

DAMMIT. HE PUT IT IN HEBREW. HE KNOWS I CAN'T READ HEBREW. Oh, yeah… I don't think he could speak Hebrew that fluently anyway. He probably used on of those Internet translators. Oh, yeah? Well, I can do that, too! In a matter of minutes, the short little paragraph is translated in front of me. It roughly said:

_Umm. So you see, I have a secret. . But the main one is...I don't hate Cartman. The only reason I'm writing it anyway because Ike threatened to tell Mom I was eating a pork few days ago unless I can poured a secret of some kind in here. Also, Stan is killing me with his constant talk of Wendy. Don't believe that it is all my secrets, those mean nothing to me._

I'm not surprised. Who doesn't like me? Maybe Kahl was just jealous of me. He is a Jew, Jinger, and from Jersey, after all. And anyone can tell from his wording that Jewboy has a crush on me. HA. Well, least I know that THAT'S going on facebook. Speaking of which, I have

quite a lot to do. Time to humiliate the Jew. Firefox is loading, loading, loading, loading and loading. Oh, guess what? This webpage is not available. You know what I have to say to that, don't you? No? Really? Well, lean closer. Come closer. I say…"YOUR MOM ON THE TOP OF THE EMPIRE STATE BUILDING."

…That made no sense, did it? Well, screw you geys, I'm going- Awh. Shut up, dumbass.

* * *

And now Firefox decided to work so we now have the facebook page pulled up on Kahl's computer screen. And now is obviously when I remember I have no idea what his password. I type in his email address anyway and stare at the blinking cursor on the screen before just typing a load of shit, hoping I'll get the right password.

_password _Well, it works in the movies!

_mymomisabigfatbitch- _Nope.

_Immastupidjew- _Denied. Really? I was sure that one would work.

_Lonelyjew- _I really hate that gay song of his. When will he learn: Nobody cares.

I'm gonna try a Cartman bashing one…- _shuttupfatass! _

DUUUDE. IT WORKED. DAAAAAAAAAAAYUM. SCORE. You see, this is why I am awesome. Obviously. Right, so I'm in. First thing is first, change profile picture to some retarded looking on. Now, I don't know why, but I end up changing his profile to one of his pictures that was from his early childhood. I kinda thinking I did it because everyone hates they're little kid pictures, right? Right? Definitely not because he was a cute little ki-NO, HE WAS NOT. Fuck. Next step: Profile song: "_Moses Supposes," __Singing in the Rain_. "Do you want to make this public on your profile page?" HELL YES. Step three…update status: I LOVE GLEE. WHO SAW THE NEWEST EPISODE? IT WAS HILARIOUS! I LOVE THAT COUPLE.

Hell if I know the pairings in Glee.

Now I have to make a new note with his poetry and journal thing…And tag everyone on his friends so they'll read it. Heh. His poem is still killing me…"_'Cause trees don't tend to be mean." _What a weird Jew. I think I'm going to change his name to Kyley-B…his Jersey name. To really piss him off, I'll destroy his crops on Farmville, too. Done and done. Man, I am an evil little bastard aren't I? I grin.

Lastly, I need to change his password so he can't get back on…hm…how about…"_make'emlaugh?" _Perfect. A _Singing In the Rain_ song… not that I've seen that movie. Smiling, I log off the account; though my smile faded quickly when I hear a sharp, shocked, high pitched, "CARTMAN! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ON MY COMPUTER…IN MY ROOM?'

* * *

…

Great. This is just great. How can I possibly explain this? Ah, screw him. I'm just not gonna answer his question.

"Oh, hello, Kaaaaaaaahl. I've been waiting for you, of course," I say with an innocent and wide smile." He glares at me.

"What. The Hell. Are. You. Doing. On. My. Computer?" He's not buying it. Shit. I'm just gonna smile some more.

"I'm not on your computer, Kaaaahl." Oh, how I love this game.

"Yes, you are, fatass," Kahl points out.

"I'M NOT FAT. BIG BONED. And prove it." Why won't believe me on the matter?

"You're sitting at a chair in front of the computer, which is not off. And I definitely didn't have facebook up when I left," he says smugly. As if he thinks he won. Retard.

That is slightly...inconvenient.

"No, I'm not." _Yes, I am._ I can see the confusion in his face.

He sighs, "Look, whatever, fatass. Just get out of my room."

"No."

"What?"

"What?" I repeat.

"You see, this is why I hate you."  
"No, you don't," I say nonchalantly. Even I can tell that I'm being incredibly annoying at the moment.

The Jew looked taken aback. "Excuse me?"  
"Your 'journal' entry in Hebrew said so," I say.  
There was a pause.

"So you were on my computer. Proof."

"No, I wasn't."

Yet another pause.

"The fuck?" His voice cracked. It's really finny when that happens. I could spend and have spent at least an hour imitating that. I guess he recognized the the expression on my face because he looked at me and said, "Don't even start."

I became the Cheshire freaking Cat again.

"So you didn't get on my computer and raid through my files, but you read my forced journal entry…which was in Hebrew. How'd you even read that?"

He's going to snap soon; I can tell. "Exactly! I also didn't go through your pictures and iTunes and poetry. I thought you would have realized by now, as the smart little Jew that you are, that I know everything." Kahl growled, but I saw a quite flicker of what looked like fear in his eyes.

"I don't write poetry. Do I seem like the kind to write poetry?" Before I can open my mouth to respond, Kyle quickly adds, "Don't answer that."

I do anyway. "Well, a person who makes a journal entry is sure to write poetry…"

"You're a bastard."

"But you love me all the same," I say.

"WHAT? Did you just pull that out of your ass?"  
"Nope. I pulled it out of your journal entry!" I love pissing people off. Unfortunately, that son of a bitch hit me and I doubled over. "Kahl…you…bastard." I muttered in between breaths.

"Don't ever say that again."

Can you believe this guy? He thinks he really actually has power over me!

"Stop denying it, Kaaaaahl. You're only hurting yourself." Ooof! Seriousleh, this guy should get some anger management therapy things.

The Jew leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear in a threatening tone. "Eric Cartman. Listen to me, or I will make you regret it. Believe me. Take it back."

I whispered back, "I cannot tell a lie, " and grinned. Then I added, "_'Cause the trees don't tend to be mean." _He flushed and his eyes flashed with anger. Then, he abruptly stepped away from me, walked to the window, put a combination lock on it, walked out in the hall and locked me in. My jaw dropped. What was that sneaky Jew doing? I press my ear to the door in hopes of hearing some conversation…and I do.

* * *

"Ms. Cartman? It's Kyle Broflovski, Eric's friend." I can practically here Kahl choking on the last two words. What is he doing talking to my mam anyway?"

"Uh, yeeeah, the one in the green hat. Well, I was wondering if Cart-I mean, Eric could stay at my house overnight." Pause.

"No, he won't have to get his things. Kenny and Stan can pick them up on their way over." Why are the poor piece of shit and the hippie coming?

"Okay. Thank you very much, Ms. Cartman." I heard him snap his cell phone shut. "Cartman! Your mom says to 'Brush those pearly whites and where socks when you sleep. You know how you get when your feet get cold. I love my poopsikins,'" he adapted a bad impression of my mother's voice and snickered. This time I felt the flush race up my cheeks. Kahl began to speak again and I figured he was back on the phone,:

"Hey, dude. Get Kenny and stop by Cartman's house then get yourselves over here." What the Hell was this asshole planning for me.

"I'll tell you when you get here. Later." Again, he snapped his phone shut and proceeded to jump down the stairs.

"Ma! Ma! Is it okay if I have the guys over for the night? Kenny's parents are passed out drunk, so we thought it be better if he was here and so…"

I heard him lie to his mother. Apparently, she gave her consent because in the next minute I hear his voice his through the door hissing,

"You'll be sorry, you useless, miserable, unethical, emotionless son of a whore. You'll regret it tonight."

Dammit. Did I have to piss him off that much? So obviously, I have to push it so more.

"Boy, you really got some sand in your vagina, don't you Kahl?"

I jump when I hear a fist slam against the door. "You mean nothing to me, Cartman. Never have, never will."

I backed away from the door which opens as soon as I do, Kahl enters and his facial expression is beyond angry, but he sees mine and quickly looks to the floor. He relocked the door and advanced towards me. "Let's try this again," he mutters, still not making eye contact.

"What were you doing on my computer?" The Jew is not scaring me…nope. Not scaring me. There is no way he's scaring me.

"Raiding it and then posting anything remotely embarrassing on your profile," I hear myself say. I'm blaming my "tourettes" for that one. He walks to the computer and gets on facebook. Then much to my surprise, instead of trying to get on his account, he logged in my account. How the fuck did he know my password?

"You should really change your password, Cartman. really isn't that difficult to guess," that stupid Jew informed me. When he loaded his profile, he turned a violent hue of red that a tomato would be jealous of. It was kinda…NOT CUTE. Can't believe I was even close to thinking that. I couldn't help it; I smirked. Kahl looked back and forth from me to the computer in what I supposed was shock. Before anything else could happen, a knock came at the bedroom door and Kahl pushed meh to the opposite side of the room and fumbled with the lock until the door opened and Kenneh and Hippie Lover entered.

* * *

Upon sight, Kenneh laughed and tossed a backpack me and said "Mmph Mpg Mmms Mmu (Clyde Frog loooves you)." Poor piece of shit. Stan, on the otherhand, turned to that evil child and politely asked why the fuck they had to come over spontaneously. Kahl's answer was simple, "Fatass is paying. Tonight." At this, Stan and Kenneh groaned in protest. "Mph mmmph mpm mmpmhm mphm! (You dragged us out here for this!)"  
"Look, Kyle, we're sick of you two arguing all the time. Get over it. Or leave me out of it at the very least. Besides, he's done a lot of crappy things and he's going to continue to do a lot of crappy things. He's a freaky guy with a messed up brain. Nothing is going to change that anytime soon," Stan told Kahl tiredly. "I'm out. Kenny, you with me?" He added and Kenneh nodded. Soon, they both left leaving me with the Jew. God, I hate you, Kenneh. Way. To. Abandon. Meh.

Kahl looked at meh. I looked at Kahl.

Kahl looked at meh. I looked at Kahl.

Kahl looked at meh. I looked at Kahl.

You can tell this went on for a while. Fucking Jew. Eventually, I spoke to break the silence.

"SO. Whatcha going to do to me?" He looked at meh before getting up, walking over to my backpack, pulling out Clyde Frog and…tearing his head off. Again. Before I get angry about this, I must say at how completely unoriginal Kahl is at thinking of punishments. And now…my eyes go wide and I yell before charging and punching the Jinger. He barely notices and continues to shred Clyde Frog. This time he is destroying him beyond repair and there is nothing I can do about it.

Or is there? Maybe if I distract him? But how could I do that? Make him even more angry…he got pretty upset when I joked about him liking meh. I could…oh, no. No way. I had to through with it though. He was already tearing the second arm of Clyde Frog off and I'd have that thing for as long as I can remember; Clyde Frog was an ass, but he was good to have around. I moved closer to Kahl and he turned his back to me so I couldn't grab my stuffed animal. So I simply wrapped my arms around Kahl and turned him towards me when he froze. I looked him in the eye and dreaded what I had to next, which was leaning forward and pressing my lips on his.

* * *

**Kyle's Point of View**

Way to have a mood swing. One moment I'm tearing this pathetic toy that Cartman is so attached to apart and he's hitting me, the next he…ugh…kisses me. What disturbs me is that when kissed me, I could tell he was doing it to distract me but then his mood changed. It went from heartless to vulnerable-slash-broken-slash-needing-slash-loving? Also, I want to know why I kissed back.

This went on for a moment before my phone rang, which caused me to snap back into reality, step back, and punch Cartman yet again while answering my phone. It was Stan…apparently had just logged onto facebook 'cause his dad made him and he saw my note on my page. I didn't even remember a note until I remembered that Cartman had hacked my account. (How'd he guess _shuttupfatass! _as a password anyway?) I sigh into the phone and asked what exactly "my" note had said considering… I…well, didn't post it. He calmed down a bit when I said my account had been hacked and told me that it said that he was starting to annoy me with his talk of Wendy. I paled slightly and lied to Stan by telling him it's just something Cartman, who perked up when I said his name, made up.

Hanging up, I picked up Cartman's frog thing and began to tear it again. Its owner looked at me desperately and began to yell frantically, "I'm sorry, Kyle! You win! I take it back! You don't like me! Just please stop!" At least he said my name correctly even if he didn't mean a word he said. At least, that's what I thought until I saw what looked like tears springing into his eyes. Tears? Really? Is it some sort of guy thing? Not being able to deal with tears? 'Cause I know that I sure as Hell can't deal with it at fucking all. I twitch a bit before putting down the old toy and placing my hand on his shoulder. "Alright, alright! Maybe I overacted; I owe you an apology…I'm sorry. But you're right, I don't hate you. I'm sorry." Well, that was a bit much, considering there were no actual tears…Man, I JUST realized I've been using the word "considering," quite a bit. Huh.

Moving on…my words just seemed to make Cartman feel more awkward instead of better so he just looked at me for a few minutes. Fail, Kyle. Fail. I almost did a facepalm right there and then, although that would have been kinda of funny if I did. He squirmed. I rolled my eyes up towards the ceiling. Damn, this is awkward.

"Um…okay. Right." That didn't help, Cartman. "You can go, if you want," I mutter underneath my breath. Surprisingly, the fat ass didn't move.

"Whut?" I said stupidly. Hm, I really am a social retard…maybe I should put music on? Screw it; that's what I'm doing. I stand up and as I do so, the bed that I had been sitting on since…well, I can't exactly remember when I sat down…squeaked. That is so annoying…'specially in the middle of an awkward silence. Clicking on my iTunes, I scrolled through my music library, gave up, and ended up clicking on shuffle. The first song to come on was a song by John Lennon. He's fucking amazing. Screw that guy who shot him in 1980.

_Ev'rybody's talkin' 'bout_

_Bagism, Shagism, Dragism, Madism, Ragism, Tagism_

_This-ism, that-ism, ism ism ism_

_All we are saying is give peace a chance_

_All we are saying is give peace a chance_

Honestly, John Lennon may be a musical genious but I've never been able to comprehend the lyrics except for the "give peace a chance," part. Shows how smart I am. Suddenly, fatass speaks. Oh, what d'you know? Fatass speaks! Call the press!

"I have to ask. What the hell is up with the George Clooney cutout?"

AWH. MAN. Anything but that! Mainly 'cause I have no idea why or where I got that thing. I mean, I don't even like George Clooney that much! He has a cool name though, I suppose.

"I don't even think that's mine, dude. It keeps popping up 'round the town, or haven't you noticed?" I replied...He hadn't noticed the George Clooney.

"If you don't hate me, do you like me," he questioned lowly. Back to that subject, are we? He didn't ask the question like a question. It was inflected like a statement. Best way to deflect a question: Ask a question. Do you agree? You do. I can tell. Even if you don't, you do…so shut the hell up. Thank you. "Why do you care?"

"I don't. Now answer my question" Best way to ruin the question with another question strategy: Answer simply and shortly…then demand and answer. God, I hate this kid…or not… or yeah. ARGH. If I had any idea where you were I might bitch slap you. Except I wouldn't 'cause that'd be…bitchy. Better get this over with.

* * *

"I enjoy your company," I trail off cautiously. Fatass laughed.

"You mean you enjoy the competition? Yeah, I can relate. That's why I saved your family's asses from the smug st-" He cut himself suddenly as if he realized what he was saying…even though it took me a while to figure it out myself. Was he going to say smug _storm_? Like when I was in San Francisco? And I was totally stoned? Why am I ending every sentence with a question mark? If he saved me then…kickass. If he didn't, whatever. I decided I'd thank him quickly then move on as if he had never slipped up. So I did, by placing my hand on his shoulder, yet again (I seem to be doing that frequently, huh?) "Thanks, bruh. Anyway, it's time for my turn to ask the awkwardly placed question. What changed when you kissed me?"

"I didn't kiss you" He replied nervously. I glare at him. He glared at me before collapsing on my bed." I only did that to stop you from killing Clyde Frog," He moaned to the ceiling. Maybe we should start a communicating to Kyle's ceiling club. That stuffed animal has a name? Wow. I swear this kid is even more pathetic than I am…and that's hard to beat.

"I am aware of this. Your attitude changed though after…you…" I trail off.

"No, it didn't. Stupid Jew." I think he actually forgot to insult me for the past half an hour. What a record breaker. I wonder…what would…happen…IF…I…*blanked*…him again. Would he react the same? Why am I even contemplating this? Could it be that Cartman was actually right for once in his life? Nah, it couldn't be. That'd be like…like…Dammit. I can't think of an analogy. I always DO that. Fuck. I'll do it. Just to win…that's it. I kiss him.

* * *

**Cartman's Point of View**

My eyes, which had previously been closed, snapped open. The FUCK, Jew? What does he think he's doing? Unfortunately, my…er…mind has mind of it's own so next thing I know, make out session with the Jew. Except not really. But it's what it was like. It was NOT awesome. At all. In any way. Repeat. At All. Then it ends. The Jinger is smirking and looking at me pointedly. Ass.

"See! You changed…you were less composed. And seemed like you wanted it."  
"You're one to talk!" I immediately throw out.

"I'm trying to make a point!"

"And? You're still a Jewish son of a bitch!"

"Don't call my mom a bitch!" He yells defensively. Doesn't he see where that HAS to lead to?

How many times have I gone through this conversation? It never gets old.

(Breath intake) _"WEEEEEEEEELLL, KYLE'S MOM'S A BITCH _

_ She's a big fat bitch, _

_ She's the biggest bitch in the whole wide world, _

_ She's a stupid bitch,_

_ If there ever was a bitch,_

_ She's a bitch to all the boys and girls._

Kah asks, "You do realize she's in the how, don't you?" Like that would stop me.

I try continue to sing, but can't due to the fact that there's a hand over my hand. Fucking bastard. So, I do the obvious, otherwise know as…lick it. That's right, retard, I licked the Jew's hand. Though he didn't react like I expected him to. He kept his hand in place, picked up my hand, and licked it. How quaint.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. THAT WORD IS HILARIOUS. So instead I pry his hand off my face, kick the Jew off the bed, and hog the bed. Hm. Good luck getting it back…Fro-boy.

"GOD DAMMIT CARTMAN." High pitched and angry. Some things never change.

"Watchu want, Kahl?" I mumbled.

"You took my bed!" He accuses.

Out of the blue, we both hear a chorus of, "He terk his berd!" Damn rednecks.

"Whatchu gonna do about it?" I asked incomprehensibly.

He kissed me again…I really hate, Kahl, Y'Know that? Might as well when this game. Kiss him back and…kick him off the bed. Again. This bed is _mine. _Got that? Mine. Until Kahl shoved me with all he's got so he could squeeze himself onto the other half of the bed. Oh. So NOW he's decided to make it awkward.

"KAHL! What the Hell are you doing?"

"Making it hard for you; what else?" I growled at his response.

"One day I'm going to kill you."  
"Love you, too, fatass."

"Fuck off."

"What you don't like me at all?" I can hear the smile on his face. What is he playing at anyway?

"I'm going to make you eat your parents," I grumble.

Now he's hugging me. OH MY FREAKING GOD. SERIOUSLEH. I'M FREAKING OUT. I COME HERE TO PLAY A PRANK AND NOW THE GUY IS HUGGING ON ME…AND…I like it? Nope. Not at all. Defiantly not.

"You sure?"

"Positive." Shit. He better not play of my thing. Oh, look. He did.

"Are you HIV Positive?" Might as well adapt his role…so I punch him.

"DUDE."  
"Love you, too, Kahl," I respond in an innocent voice with a grin on my face.

Then he punches me. Like I said, some things never change.

* * *

**Author's Note: Aye! So, if you read through this thing...you get an invisible golden taco that only I can see. Sorry. :} (my emoticon with a goatee.} I also have no ownership over South Park, John Lennon, Facebook...the list goes on and on...and on. I do, in fact, encourage reviews. Tell you what. Review mine and I'll review yours. _BUT _if you review with something about George Clooney, wikipedia, or tacos (or anything good or bad. I'm good with critique)-I will love you forever. 'Cause you exist. PEACE. And buy some cheese...if your not allergic or lactose intolerant. [Did I spell that right?] **

**NOTE: Kyman fans: I have another Kyman story up and...I'd appreciate it if you read than one as well. If you have time. And don't hate me. **

**.Say.I'm**


End file.
